The staircase was endless.
Each step echoed with the weight of ancient grief, the walls pulsing with forgotten memories. Kael held his blade low, its edge humming faintly against the thick silence. Lysara walked beside him, the Seed of Aether glowing softly in her hand—its light barely piercing the gloom.
"This place," Kael whispered, "feels like it's alive."
"It is," Lysara replied. "The Hollow Plane was never meant to be walked by the living."
At last, the stairs ended. They stepped into a vast cavern that seemed to stretch beyond reality. Above them, the sky was a shifting canvas of shadows and broken stars. Below, an endless sea of black glass reflected their every movement—though their reflections often lagged behind, or moved... differently.
Kael's voice dropped. "Something's watching."
From the darkness, a figure emerged—tall, faceless, cloaked in layers of shadow. Its presence pressed against them like the weight of eons.
"You carry the Seed," it spoke, its voice neither male nor female, but layered, like dozens of voices speaking as one.
"We came for Riven," Lysara said firmly.
"He chose to step beyond the Veil. Now he belongs to the Hollow."
Kael stepped forward. "Then take us to him. We'll bring him back."
The entity tilted its head. "You misunderstand. The Hollow Plane is not a prison—it is a crucible. If he survives, he returns changed. If he fails, he is erased."
Lysara's grip tightened. "Then we'll fight for him."
The figure extended an arm. From the ground, a path rose—thin, winding, and lit by floating shards of memory.
"Then walk. But beware… each step takes you closer to what must be forgotten."
As they stepped onto the path, the air grew colder, heavier. Whispers rose from the shadows—fragments of Riven's memories, his pain, his regrets, and...
…his voice.
"Lysara… Kael… Don't follow me—"
Too late.
They were already inside.